Category Archives: Uncategorized

Yale vs Harvard 2021

As you know, The Game is coming up on Saturday, November 20 – and we’re thrilled that it’s back in New Haven this year.

Due to Yale’s COVID restrictions, we are unable to welcome guests (including both Yale alumni and Harvard visitors) to join our community for Shabbat this year. However, we are pleased to offer Shabbat Boxes to-go for both Shabbat dinner and Saturday lunch for purchase by those who preregister no later than Friday, November 12. Meals can be picked up Friday evening November 19 and Saturday morning November 20 at “Slifka North” – the temporary facility we are using at 105 Whitney Street while our main building is closed for construction.

Please order your meals here!

Looking forward to seeing you, and go Yale!

Rejecting Condemnation of Israel at Yale

Dear beloved, dispersed members of Yale’s Jewish community,

We hope our message finds each of you well.

As you may already know, earlier tonight the Yale College Council (YCC) voted to adopt a Statement of Condemnation against Israel by a narrow margin.

Yale’s undergraduate Jewish leaders devoted the past several weeks to opposing the Council’s adoption of this measure. In their opening remarks at tonight’s meeting, they urged the YCC to consider the effects of this condemnation on Yale’s students,

If YCC were to sign on to such a one-sided and totalizing statement, they would position themselves, as representatives of the entire student body, firmly against Israel. Severe condemnation becomes the new baseline, and those who fall short of that stand outside the community. Not only does this cast aside students who support Israel, but without a neutral baseline, it makes it harder to maintain an environment of open dialogue and forces students, particularly Jewish students, to take a stance.

As YCC, you are committed to promoting the mental and social health of the Yale undergraduate community. This has been anything but a healthy situation for Jews at Yale. In May, the attention on Israel and on Jews as its perceived representatives led to open hostility on social media, vandalism of synagogues and of campus Hillels, such as Harvard’s, even physical anti-semitic attacks, such as those in New York, LA, and London. Although much of this occurs far from Yale, the anxiety and fear is present nevertheless. YCC has done nothing to address that anxiety, but your signing on is likely to exacerbate it.

Slifka Center is a proponent of every student group raising its voice at Yale. We are practitioners of student democracy internally and supporters of it throughout the university and beyond. We are animated by commitments to truth and justice, including by identifying and combating entrenched structures of inequality and oppression. Finally, we are committed to the broadest range of moral and political positions on Israel and Palestinian rights — including views left, right, and center that challenge accepted opinion and use prophetic claims to highlight moral crises.

It is because of, and not despite, these commitments that we object to the YCC condemning Israel. The adopted statement is one-dimensional and myopic to the point of willful ignorance, unworthy of this university’s dedication to the world-shaping power of truth. More concerningly, the statement’s silence on Israeli deaths – reserving its concern exclusively for Palestinians – sends a chilling message that Jewish lives and deaths are unworthy of comment, much less moral outrage. In erasing the dangers confronting Jews at a moment of rising antisemitic violence here in America, the very body entrusted with the welfare of Yale’s undergraduate students has not only veered from its mission; it has betrayed the students it was created to defend.

Sadly, our duties tonight – to the Jewish community and to Yale at large – include highlighting this condemnation’s antisemitic overtones. We do not invoke the charge of antisemitism lightly, particularly because it has been weaponized to silence even measured and justified criticism of Israel. But this statement is neither measured nor justified: it characterizes the Jewish state as an agent of the world’s most reprehensible forces and guilty of the most unspeakable crimes – in other words, demonically. In so doing, this condemnation stands in a two-millenium chain of antisemitic works. This genealogy may be invisible to its authors and adherents because the outsized perfidy they ascribe to the Jewish state is formulated in contemporary terms – but it is clear, terrifying, and familiar to us. So tonight, with grief and resolve, we are reckoning with the dawning realization that antisemitism at Yale is not confined neatly to the quota era of the past, but is a component of life for today’s Jewish students.

Tonight’s decision was not in keeping with the YCC’s stated mission of “protect[ing] student rights and freedoms; foster[ing] school unity and pride.”  It was a betrayal of this promise of protection and a blow to the moral fiber that binds Yale and humanity together.

We write these words with full knowledge that some Jewish undergraduates were among those advocating for the YCC’s adoption of this condemnation. We embrace them – you – as members of our Jewish community, along with your commitments to Judaism and to justice. Our response to tonights’ vote is not about politics, but the justified fear and concern felt by many members of our community – and our sacred obligation to stand with and for every member of Yale’s Jewish community.

All of us at Slifka Center stand in solidarity with everyone whose commitments to the equal dignity of all residents of Gaza, the West Bank, and Israel impel them to seek a just peace, and who are able and willing to simultaneously hold the complexity and anguish of both Palestinian and Jewish pain. Sadly, tonight’s decision was a defeat for these principles. We hope that in the coming months the YCC will make good on its responsibilities to Jewish students, and to all Yale students. And today, we reaffirm our commitment to an expansive vision and practice of Judaism, one that defies antisemitism but is not defined by that defiance, reaching always outward as we build a home for every Jewish student and a welcoming destination for all – a beacon of dialogue, moral vision, and humanity.

 

Yours in solidarity,

Uri Cohen, Executive Director

Rabbi Jason Rubenstein, Howard M. Holtzmann Jewish Chaplain at Yale

Ruthie Davis, Hillel Student Board Co-President

Zevi Siegal, Hillel Student Board Co-President

Slifka Think Tank Fellowship 2021

To view this posting as a PDF, Click Here

The Think Tank represents Slifka Center’s efforts to contribute to the larger world of ideas by bringing the Jewish and American intellectual traditions into dialogue with one another. In this role you will work closely with Slifka’s senior leadership – the Executive Director and Howard M. Holtzmann Jewish Chaplain at Yale – to create programs and published materials that offer new perspectives on the major questions facing the Jewish community and the world. The position will begin in summer 2021 and continue through mid 2022, with the potential of renewal.

 

What You’ll Do:

  • Work closely with the Howard M. Holtzmann Jewish Chaplain and Executive Director to  design, plan, and implement new, intellectually ambitious programs that link Slifka Center to the most important contemporary conversations and ideas
  • Facilitate working groups of students on Israel/Palestine and climate crisis
  • Build working relationships with diverse students and, as relevant, other members of the Yale community
  • Coordinate the editing and publishing of written and video works as needed
  • Work 10 hours/week during the school year, including weekly visits to Yale’s campus

 

What You Will Bring to the Job:

  • A demonstrated commitment to creating new Jewish ideas and relationships
  • Ability to work in a flexible, digital workspace
  • Ability to juggle multiple demands and types of responsibilities simultaneously
  • Strong organizational, communication, and project-management skills
  • Ability to visit New Haven on a weekly basis
  • Familiarity with Google Docs, Microsoft Office, and ability to learn new software quickly
  • Yale affiliation preferred

 

What You Will Receive:

  • A salary of $1,000 monthly
  • A unique opportunity to participate in and shape a new set of educational programs unlike any that exist on college campuses 
  • Relationships with well-connected, exciting Jews engaged in creating new ideas and communities
  • Mentorship and professional development

To apply, please send a cover letter and resume to Rabbi Jason Rubenstein at jason.rubenstein@yale.edu.

Check out the Henry Kohn Fellowship Here! 

Henry Kohn Fellowship at Slifka Center

To view this as a PDF, Click Here

Slifka Center is planning an inaugural Henry Kohn Conference for the 2021-22 academic year. The topic will be the dialogue between immigration and religious conversion, with an eye towards both intellectual creativity and towards enriching the ideas and practices of contemporary Judaism. 

This conference will have four essential components: 1) a year-long collaboration between scholars and practitioners through monthly Zoom workshops; 2) a Shabbaton April 29-30, 2022 in which these collaborators meet, discuss, and share their ideas with selected members of the Yale community; 3) a public conference on May 1 to which students, alumni and other guests will be invited, featuring interactive sessions and a keynote; and 4) an edited volume to be published from the sessions.

Your role would be to work closely with the Howard M. Holtzmann Jewish Chaplain at Yale to bring this conference from concept to reality. Responsibilities will be wide-ranging, from administrative to research, editing, and facilitation. The position will begin in summer 2021 and continue through mid 2022, with the potential of renewal (which would focus on a potential 2023 conference).

What You’ll Do:

  • Participate in the design of the conference – its goals, methods, and schedule
  • Communicate with participants at different stages of their involvement
  • Manage tech for monthly scholar/practitioner gatherings
  • Handle media (social and otherwise) outreach
  • Coordinate finances of travel, honoraria, etc
  • Collect and produce written materials for the conference
  • In the week of the conference, managing the myriad details (including working with caterers and Yale facilities)

 

What You Will Bring to the Job:

  • Familiarity with the academic world – Yale affiliation preferred
  • A demonstrated commitment to creating new Jewish ideas and relationships
  • Ability to work in a flexible, digital workspace
  • Ability to juggle multiple demands and types of responsibilities simultaneously
  • Strong organizational, communication, and project-management skills
  • Ability to travel and stay in New Haven in the weeks around 5/1/22
  • Familiarity with Google Docs, Microsoft Office, and ability to learn new software quickly

What You Will Receive:

  • A salary of $1,000 monthly, with an additional $1,000 for the ten-day period surrounding the conference
  • A unique opportunity to participate in and shape a new set of educational programs unlike any that exist on college campuses 
  • Relationships with well-connected, exciting thinkers creating new ideas and communities
  • Mentorship and professional development

To apply, please send a cover letter and resume to Rabbi Jason Rubenstein at jason.rubenstein@yale.edu.

Check out the Slifka Think Thank Fellowship Here! 

Reflections on the Israeli National Days

A Message from HSB Communication’s Chair Aaron Schorr ’24 

 

Dearest Slifka Community,

I wanted to share some thoughts for Yom Hazikaron and Yom Ha’atzmaut, which fall today and tomorrow, respectively.
There’s a particularly profound Israeli poem by Tzur Ehrlich that gets recirculated on my Instagram feed around this time of year (English translation my own):

שְׁנֵי יְמֵי זִכָּרוֹן סְמוּכִים כָּל שָׁנָה   Two adjacent remembrance days each year
לְטוֹבַת הַחִשּׁוּב הַכְּלָלִי                 For the general calculation
כַּמָּה עוֹלָה לָנוּ עִם מְדִינָה           How much it costs us with a state
וְכַמָּה עוֹלָה לָנוּ בְּלִי                     And how much it costs us without.

As a kid in Israel, the two weeks after Passover vacation – the local version of spring break – assume a very familiar rhythm each year as school enters its final phase before the summer: Yom Hashoah – Holocaust Remembrance Day – in the first week, followed by Yom Hazikaron and Yom Ha’atzmaut (Memorial Day and Independence Day, respectively) on subsequent days the following week. It’s a series of national moments of reflection unlike any other country with which I am familiar: first, the memorialization of a historical tragedy of epic proportions, and next the observance of another, more personal and more recent national tragedy, instantly followed by the great celebration of the realization of millennia of yearning for Jewish sovereignty.

Every year, we’d get the same speeches from our teachers, following roughly the same line of thought as Ehrlich’s poem: first, we remind ourselves of the price of not being able to defend ourselves; then, we remind ourselves how costly it is to defend ourselves; finally, we allow ourselves to celebrate the achievement that is the State of Israel. For many, it is a transition that takes time to unpack amid a whirlwind of emotions. As a teenager, there was a particular narrative I kept hearing: The transition from Memorial Day to Independence Day is so difficult for me. At the time, I didn’t understand why this was. Memorial Day was somber, but it was a national tragedy that was detached from me. My memories of going to street parties with my friends and barbecuing with my family far on Independence Day outweighed the melancholy of the previous day; the transition I experienced was equivalent to flipping a switch.

Around this time of year, my ninth-grade literature teacher Tamar brought in some poems relating to Yom Hazikaron and talked about how difficult this transition was for her. I distinctly remember being skeptical of her feelings, which I contrasted with my own; at that point, at the height of my teenage cynicism, it almost felt like talking about this perceived struggle was an aesthetic to which my teachers were trying to conform. Tamar had a son, Avshalom, a couple grades ahead of me. Like everyone else, he was drafted to the Israeli military, and served as an artillery officer. In September 2017, during a training exercise in the Golan Heights, Avshalom’s artillery piece rolled over and killed him and one of his soldiers. When I got the news of his death, I was a soldier myself, but what I vividly going through my head was a flashback to that ninth-grade classroom.

Both the Israeli concepts of memorial and independence are entirely foreign to Americans. When I tell my friends back home that Memorial Day in the U.S. is a long weekend for people to have barbecues with their families in state parks, they experience cognitive dissonance. The contrast to Israel, where, at times, statehood seems like an exercise in collective trauma, could not be starker. For us, Memorial Day means a true day of national mourning, a day on which the entire country takes pause to honor its fallen. This happens in a very tangible way: at 8:00 pm on the eve of Memorial Day and again at 11:00 the next morning, air raid sirens sound throughout the country and everyone takes a moment to reflect to themselves. Cars and buses stop on the highway, pedestrians freeze where they are, office workers stand up at their desks, and every radio station plays the same horrible wail that sends chills up everyone’s spines. The entire country stops what it’s doing and remembers what it means to be independent. After two minutes which feel like an eternity, the sirens gradually fade out and you can literally feel the tension dissipating. It is a moment of shared identity so terrible it needs to be experienced to be comprehended (for a taste, watch this video; a notable exception to this story is a small minority of ultra-Orthodox communities who reject the secular Zionist state and refuse to observe both days).

In my school, Memorial Day meant an assembly where our headmaster would recite a prayer for the souls of fallen soldiers and read out the names of the several dozen alumni who had lost their lives in uniform, often collapsing in tears before reaching the end. It isn’t just Tamar or just my high school; everyone in Israel has skin in the game. While I am fortunate enough to not have lost anyone close to me, I knew Avshalom personally, as well as Barkai Shor, another alumnus of my high school, who was killed in action during the Israeli invasion of the Gaza Strip in 2014. Ari Fuld, a childhood friend of my mother’s, was stabbed to death outside his settlement in the West Bank in 2018. Memorial Day isn’t commemorating a historical event with a known ending like Holocaust Remembrance Day; it is an opportunity to reflect on a process that is very much ongoing. I served in the military, as did all my peers and as will all of my younger siblings. My younger brother, in fact, started the same artillery officer training program Avshalom had gone through just last week. For this reason, Memorial Day can often feel like the Israeli trauma Olympics, in which everyone loses.

Only with this background can anybody understand the much-discussed transition to statehood. The State of Israel is a relatively new concept: until his death last week, Prince Philip and Queen Elizabeth had been married for longer than the country, which had been granted independence by the latter’s father, had existed. Like many other young countries created by postwar decolonization, Israel was born in fire and brimstone, which continued raining down sporadically for decades. Like the plethora of articles on the Internet explaining why we need to experience pain to truly experience pleasure, there can be no celebration of Israeli independence without commemorating the terrible personal price at which it came, both in the extermination camps of Poland and on the battlefields of the Sinai and the Golan Heights. In Israel, Independence Day is not just an opportunity to bask in the glow of patriotic sentiment, it is a moment of deep reckoning, the culmination of a process of national evolution that really begins twenty days earlier with the observation of Passover, the holiday commemorating our ancestors’ exodus from Egypt to the Holy Land, and inextricably linked to the two memorial days preceding it. This year, adjusting to life away from my home country, I will be reflecting upon the transition from memorial to celebration I have finally come to understand. Regardless of your attitude towards the Jewish state, I hope you will be able to understand this, too.

If you want to dedicate a few minutes from your day to Yom Hazikaron, I would be touched if you read the stories of Avshalom and Barkai. You can read a news article about Avshalom here and Barkai has a brief memorial page here on a site listing the biographies of most fallen IDF soldiers.
Fittingly, Yom Hazikaron is also the inspiration for some of the most haunting and beautiful music to ever come out of Israel. I’ve created a Spotify playlist with some of these which you can find here; they’re beautiful even if you don’t understand Hebrew.

Accounting Associate/Junior Accountant – Part time (10-15 hrs/wk)

Joseph Slifka Center for Jewish Life at Yale (Slifka) is a non-profit organization, committed to enriching the Jewish experience of students on the Yale campus (https://slifkacenter.org/). Slifka Center is currently seeking a part-time Accounting Associate/Junior Accountant.  Reporting to the center’s Director of Finance, this hands-on role is responsible for general accounting functions, including, but not limited to, cash receipts, accounts payable and account reconciliations.

Note: Due to Covid-19, Slifka Center’s building is currently closed and staff works remotely. The new hire will work remotely until the facility reopens, hopefully in late summer 2021.

PDF Version of this posting HERE

Responsibilities:

    • Cash Receipts (40%)
    • Process incoming cash receipts and bank deposits (Checks, ACH, Wires, CC)
    • Download online merchant activity and reconcile to Development reports
    • Record all incoming cash receipts in the accounting software
    • Scan and maintain supporting documentation for all cash receipts
    • Provide cash receipts detail for the Development Department via shared worksheet
    • Process pledge receipts and reconcile outstanding pledge balances
    • Prepare bank reconciliations
    • Payables & Vendor setup (40%)
    • Enter vendor bills and assign to budget managers for review/approvals
    • Create vendors (students and other vendors) as needed
    • Review other documents in bill.com inbox and manage/file as needed
    • Assist with general ledger (GL) account analysis and reconciliation (monthly) (15%)
    • Assist with other projects as assigned (5%)

Basic qualifications:

    • Ability to function well in a team-oriented, high-energy and continuously developing environment
    • Excellent communication skills
    • Action-oriented individual, proactive and with a strong work ethic
    • Strong attention to detail
    • Superior analytical and problem-solving skills
    • Ability to meet deadlines, multi-task, and work independently
    • Proficient in Microsoft Excel or similar spreadsheet software
    • Able to work remotely
    • High school degree

Preferred qualifications:

    • Background in Business, Accounting, or Finance
    • Experience using QuickBooks, Bill.com, Zoom, Monday.com, MS Teams
    • College degree

Prospective candidates should email a resume and a statement of interest to workwithslifka@gmail.com. Review of applications will begin immediately. The position will remain open until filled.

 About Slifka Center for Jewish Life at Yale:

Slifka Center is the hub of Jewish life at Yale, housed in a 19,000 square foot building that features a kosher dining hall and is located in the heart of campus. Slifka Center serves the ~1,400 Jewish undergraduate and graduate students on campus, as well as faculty and staff, and members of the New Haven Jewish community. The center’s leadership is committed to realizing Slifka’s enormous potential both as a center for Jewish students and as a significant thought leader in the Jewish community and the world beyond.

 About Hillel International:

In 1923, Rabbi Benjamin Frankel started Hillel with humble means, a noble mission and a breathtaking vision: to convey Jewish civilization to a new generation. Today, Hillel International continues to enrich the lives of Jewish students and is the largest Jewish campus organization in the world at more than 550 colleges and universities across North America and around the world. As Hillel evolves as an organization, the mission remains steadfast: to create lasting connections with every Jewish student that foster an enduring commitment to Jewish life, learning, and Israel and train them to become the next Jewish leaders.

Slifka Center for Jewish Life at Yale is affiliated with Hillel International. Hillel International enriches the lives of Jewish students so they may enrich the Jewish people and the world, and envisions a world where every student is inspired to make an enduring commitment to Jewish life, learning and Israel.

Slifka Center is an equal opportunity employer. We are committed to creating an accepting and inclusive environment for all.

Remembering Matthew Eisenfeld z”l and (somehow) Celebrating Purim

Dear members of Yale’s blessed, dispersed Jewish community,

I hope my words find each of you well: secure, healthy, and beginning to emerge from the pandemic with those you love. And as always, I invite you to reply with your thoughts, questions, and needs.

Twenty-five years ago today, Matthew Eisenfeld SY ‘93, his girlfriend Sara Duker, and twenty-four others were murdered by a suicide bomb that tore apart a #18 bus on Jaffa Road in Jerusalem. A young man who embodied the very best of what this community has been, and can be – brimming with brilliance, piety, and possibility – Matthew was living in Israel as he studied for ordination at the Jewish Theological Seminary.

I never met Matthew, who would have been just over 50 years old now. He has nonetheless been a guiding spirit for the past two decades: in the fall of 2000, during those first horrifying weeks of the second Intifada, Matthew’s JTS roommate, Shai Held, was the rabbi at Harvard Hillel, where he again and again invoked his friend’s memory in our frantic search for understanding as bombs struck Jerusalem’s buses with relentless ferocity. When I entered the halls of JTS in 2006, a group of us studied Talmud each morning in the hour before the morning prayers – in the beit midrash named in Matthew and Sara’s memory. And here at Slifka in non-COVID-times, each Shabbat comes to life as students raise their voices in the songs Matthew loved, sung from the elegant song-books created to keep the memory of him, and his music, alive in the hearts and mouths of Yale’s Jewish community. Many of you reading this were his classmates and dear friends, and today brings with it the annual flood of memories, and of sadness.

Yet each contact with Matthew’s legacy further underscores the gaping hole his death left in our community. His scholarship and personal essays collected in Love Finer than Wine, are works of clarity and beauty, and leave the reader achingly aware of how much richer Judaism would have been – how much sweeter our lives, and our world, would have been – had only Matthew’s love of Torah and his knack for rigorous scholarship been allowed to flourish over this past quarter-century. I hope that these words, which I dedicate to Matthew’s memory, are a fitting tribute to a man who, had he lived, would have been a formative, even treasured, teacher of mine – and of so many others.

Today is fraught with paradox, because this day of grief is also the eve of Purim, Judaism’s day of reckless abandon and irreverent merrymaking. Is it possible to hold the heartache of Matthew’s loss and the possibility of laughter? How could we abandon ourselves to a carnival in this world tinged with tragedy?

Celebrating Purim and mourning Matthew are dialectical opposites. And like all opposites, they meet in a single point: the fragile partial-miracle that is the State of Israel. The introduction of Israel’s complexity – and its seemingly tenuous connection to Purim – likely has many of you confused. Let me try to explain.

Michael Walzer, in his lovely Exodus and Revolution, tried heroically to reclaim an ‘Exodus Zionism’ from the regnant ‘Messianic Zionism.’ Walzer was right: messianic Zionism is not only dangerous, giving its adherents a blank check to ignore history, ethics, and politics – it is also a radical departure from the open-ended, this-worldly work of creating a just and holy society in which the dreams of the Exodus find their fulfillment.

Walzer was right, and he could have gone further yet: the initial religious Zionist reflections on the proper celebration of the State of Israel’s birth took neither messianism nor the Exodus as their paradigm. Purim was their paradigm for the birth of the State of Israel in 1948. 

In the spring of 1949, as the first anniversary of Israel’s declaration independence approached, the Ashkenazi and Sefardi Chief Rabbis, Hayyim Herzog and Ben-Zion Uziel, issued a joint statement making the 5th of Iyyar into a religious holiday by paraphrasing Esther 9:27, in which the Jews “undertook and established” the annual celebration of Purim “for themselves and for their children afterwards.” They understood the Jewish present not in the image of the Paschal lamb, nor the splitting of the sea, nor Joshua’s conquest of the land, but in the harrowing political maneuvering of Persia’s Jews to survive Haman’s threat and to gain the power to defend themselves.

Three years later Rabbi Yehuda Leib Maimon, the new state’s first Minister of Religions, asked the prominent Rabbi Meshullam Roth for guidance in creating a formal liturgy for the annual celebration of Israel’s independence day, which by then had taken on the title “Yom Ha-atzma’ut.” Roth (Kol Mevaser 1:21) placed present-day Israel in a tradition initiated by Rabbi Moshe Alashkar, himself among the Jews exiled from Spain in 1492. Alashkar (Responsa #49) was asked if a town’s residents could establish a certain day as a “Purim for all purposes, to celebrate the great miracle that saved them on that day” – and responded with an enthusiastic ‘yes.’ Roth then connected the links from Alashkar in the early 16th century to the present, citing the 17th century establishment of “Purim Vinz” by the Jews of Frankfurt am Main to celebrate the defeat of Vincenz Fettmilch, who had expelled them from the town two years prior (Yosef Ometz #909) – and evidence that, some two hundred years later, the great Rabbi Moses Sofer and his community in Bratislava continued to celebrate Purim Vinz (Responsa 1:191). Rabbi Roth saw 1948 as the most recent, and most meaningful link in our long chain of exiles and deliverances – the long chain of Purims, from Susa through Spain and Germany – and now in Israel.

In the early 1970’s the great – and controversial – Hakham Ovadia Yosef refused to include some of the liturgy’s most festive elements in the prayers for Yom Hatzma’ut, (Yabia Omer 6, OH 41) remembering that following Israel’s declaration of independence, 

The war of independence continued for some time with unabated fury, and so many were killed. The ceasefire came some time later, and even after that, the enemies who surrounded us continued to inflict casualties on us. So even though the establishment of the State allowed us to gather in the exiles from the Middle East and the survivors of the Holocaust in Europe – our joy is not complete… it is tinged with sorrow.

The story of Israel – including Matthew and Sara’s time living there and their deaths there – is not the simple, inexorable triumph of Passover, much less the Messianic era, but the contingent and conflicted deliverance of Purim, “tinged with sorrow.” And it is not only Purim that illuminates present-day Israel; Israel’s realities of alternating deliverance and danger may hold the very keys to the joy of Purim.

Long, long ago, Isaiah urged us (66:10), “Rejoice with Jerusalem and be glad for her, All you who love her! Join in her jubilation, All you who mourned over her!” Mourning is not incompatible with jubilation, but a prerequisite for it; hearts that have not been broken open by anguish have no furrows where the seeds of joy can take root. The Rabbis did Isaiah one better, making this connection explicit and necessary (Taanit 30b), “Those who have mourned for Jerusalem will merit to see it in its joy; those who have not mourned for Jerusalem will not.” Our people’s mourning for Jerusalem stretches back millennia; over the past-twenty five years it has included, as one of its most searing chapters, February 25, 1996. Today, we carry that compounded mourning into our celebrations, with the faith that somehow we can, and must, hold them together.

This year our path to joy passes through the valley of the shadow of death – and perhaps it does every year. The month of Adar, defined by Purim, is one of magnified joy – not in the simple multiplication of moments of happiness, but in an expansion and transformation of what our hearts can hold. Jewish weddings culminate in the breaking of a glass; at the pinnacle of joy, something shatters as well. True, courageous joy only comes after an agonizing awareness of our fragility, and never through denial. This Purim, and all days, may we carry Matthew and Sara in our hearts – and with them, the blessings of community, of Torah, of song, and of Israel that they treasured and loved so dearly, every day of their too-short lives, and beyond.

Yours in friendship, mourning, and celebration,

Jason

Rabbi Jason Rubenstein

Howard M. Holtzmann Jewish Chaplain at Yale

Alumni

Welcome to Slifka Center, the home for Jewish Life at Yale. Whether you graduated before our Center opened in 1995 or had the chance to use the Center as a student, we welcome you to the hub of the Yale Jewish community. We invite you to browse this site and learn about everything that the Center offers for today’s Yale undergraduates and graduate students. We also have some programming that is designed for you!

In particular, we draw your attention to the following pages:

About Slifka Center:

Programs for Alumni

  • 2021 Reunion Weekend with Slifka Center
  • Slifka Online Salons – online programs featuring prominent speakers on topics of interest
  • Reunion programming – we offer Shabbat dinner, services, and other programs of interest during reunion weekends.
  • The Game – in years when Yale hosts The Game we welcome alumni for a full suite of celebratory Shabbat activities
  • Come visit anytime! We’d love to show you around and give you more information! Please contact Jennifer Rogin Wallis at jennifer.wallis@yale.edu for more information.

Rabbi Isaama on Walking In Heschel and King’s Footsteps

Read the full Devar Torah Here

Excerpt:

As we each wrestle with our own place in our country’s national discourse on race, and try to navigate our personal responsibility vis-a-vis racism, I still believe we have much to learn from Heschel. In 1963 at the National Conference on Religion and Race, the conference where Heschel and King first met, Heschel offered the following caution to American Jews:

There are several ways of dealing with our bad conscience. (1) we can extenuate our responsibility; (2) we can keep the Negro out of our sight; (3) we can alleviate our qualms by pointing to the progress made; (4) we can delegate the responsibility to the courts; (5) we can silence our conscience by cultivating indifference; (6) we can dedicate our minds to issues of a far more sublime nature.

58 years later, we can look to Heschel’s cautions, and identify the normative habits of mind that have become deeply ingrained in our culture. It is hard to hold the truth that we have all managed to find ways to comfort our consciences in the face of inequity. Yet, we do not help ourselves or the cause of justice if we allow ourselves to become numbed by the weight of our own guilt.